Small differences

Life has changed somewhat for me, us rather, since we moved here. I mean, it's modern, it's a big city. There are nearly 6 million people living in Santiago. It's fast paced. I have everything that I could possibly need here. It's just different.

For one thing, we have chosen to live in an apartment building. I used to think of apartment buildings as 2 or 3 stories. (Except of course if you live in New York). But here in Chile, that is not the case. Ours is a shorter building, the floors go into the teens. Many of those around us are much taller.

When we go outside to play, it looks something like this. Sometimes we take the motos (motorcycle), sometimes we take other toys.

This elevator isn't very big. I'm glad it has a window. It keeps the kids occupied.

Both of my kids have been begging me for a dog. Why? Because it's in their nature. Don't all kids ask for dogs? Well, could you imagine trying to train the puppy to go outside? Grab the dog, wait for the elevator....... and then ride xx number of floors down, walk outside.... yeah right. The poor puppy would have already finished on your leg, in the hallway, and in the elevator. That would be horrible. But somehow, people do it. My kids want a dog so bad, they even pretend to be dogs. My brother and I used to do this too when we were little. Here is a picture of Alexa being a dog. She corrects me sometimes and tells me that she is a puppy, not Alexa. *sigh* So no. I don't want to even think about what life would be like with a dog in this apartment building.

I am not sure that I have even spoken about our incredibly small ovens. But here is a picture of mine. I was baking some muffins. And yes, it's just a little wider than a 12 count muffin pan. I have some larger bake ware, and some other things that won't even fit. It's also been fun trying to convert Fahrenheit temps to Celsius.

Another thing I've had to get used to is seeing an actual grocery cart inside my home. We use it to bring the groceries up from the parking area, which is below the building. I'm thankful for it, because it would be a pain to lug up so many bags, back and forth. It's just weird.

While on Twitter the other night, @themomjen was talking about Oreos. I was desperate for some, thinking that I wouldn't be able to get any here. When we went to the store, this is what I found. A small package of Oreos. I used the pen as a reference for size. They were very good.

Now, I'm not going to go into the milk again. I've already discussed that in another post all of it's own. So if you are interested in finding out why I don't eat cereal while I am here, please click on this link and read all about the kind of milk they have here.

One last little bit. We don't take the trash out. Anywhere. We have a trash shoot inside of our apartment. Sometimes I worry that when I open the door, someone from the floors above me will be dumping some garbage, and it will come into my apartment if I open the door. Probably not, but I don't really want to take that chance. I always open and close our door very quickly. And it always makes a loud noise when going down and banging and clanging it's way all the way down to the bottom. You can hear the noise of the people above you throwing out their garbage as well. It's just a bit weird.

So there you have it. A peek into my life. I will be here for another year.

Driving.

In case you missed an earlier post, I will mention to you again, I haven't driven a car since June 14 of this year. I got behind the wheel today. It felt strangely invigorating. It felt good. And I felt free. Until I drove 200 meters out of the parking garage and turned right out onto the street.

Pedestrians, everywhere, everywhere, like giant ants. Not even walking in any kind of pattern. Zigging and zagging every which way, and they with their own agenda behaving as if my main course is to avoid them. And unlike ants, I am unable to just drive right over the top of them.

They dart out from nowhere. They aren't watching where they are going. No wonder people who drive cars tend to get a little... angry. Disgruntled. I cautiously stepped on my brake as I waited for what felt like 5 minutes on the parade of neighbors on their way to work, school, home, and to the store. And then the dogs, oh the dogs. I can't even see them when they are on their leashes, don't people even care? I might drive over muffy's head! I haven't even made it to the stop light at the end of my street. Gah! And when I do finally arrive, there is a rather large coca-cola delivery truck double parked. Because that's what they do here, they double park. Good heaven on earth, will I ever make it off this street? Will I accidentally drive off the road? Will I hit these self absorbed human beings as they meander between the cars? Will my diplomatic immunity save me? Really? Oh my. The stress.

When the light turned green, one normally might think that this was a clear and evident sign to proceed onward. And for some it is, but for those of us sharing the desire to make a right hand turn, FAT CHANCE! You must once again WAIT on those beloved, annoying and unending stream of pedestrians. They criss and they cross and they walk really really slow. They taunt you as they fidget with their cell phones, and the light turns yellow and you still haven't moved one single inch. Good Lord, please help me. I can still see my building and I am not off the street, will I even make it to my destination?

I turn. For a fraction of a second I am able to concentrate on the bad music playing on my radio. I change the station. Madonna, in English, oh, there's a change. So I listen, I almost sing along. Almost, but my attention is rapidly diverted to the bus who is coming into my lane. It is ever apparent that he wants to be here too. Only, there is no room for both my car and this HUGE bus. I cringe, I look to my left, a line of cars. I look in front, oh duh, more cars. And then I just squeeze over a tiny bit. A very tiny bit. The bus didn't budge, nor did I. But my heart was pounding, as he was making his presence known. Why oh why am I even here? What was I driving for? These people are slightly C-R-A-Z-Y! Oh thank heavens, the person in front of me speeds up, and I gun it, thus allowing me to pull safely ahead of the bus. Only moments later, the bus takes over the lane fully. !@#$%@ Yah. He was. And how dare he. Doesn't he know that this is my first time driving in like months? And my first time driving in Santiago, like, EVER??

I'm a little sensitive right now. Geesh. OK, so I'm driving. And there is a car in the middle lane of the 3 lanes that exist on this road I am driving on. He (or she) is stopped. Nice, very nice. I think to myself as I quickly maneuver to the left lane to drive around this person. And then quickly notice that this left lane that I just entered into is a lane that turns only left. Goodness gracious. Really? You honestly can't make left hand turns in Santiago, well not very frequently, and they are few and far in between. So I quickly drove back into my lane and kept on course. More buses, and more praying on my part that the big ones don't decide to take over my lane again. Or worse, hit me in the process, because they just don't care, or because they can, or they assume that I will move. I assume they will stop, so someone is going to lose. Anyway.

I must not forget the motorcycle that appeared out of nowhere. And if I rolled my window down, I could probably reach into his pants pocket and pull out his wallet. Or scratch his back or something weird like that. I could see the dirt in his fingernails, and his elbow was touching my side view mirror. How nice, we could chat. Or not. He probably speaks Spanish. Duh. It could be small chat. Yo quiero dormir. Y tengo hambre. I laugh to myself. And then I worry for the motorcycle people who creep up on unsuspecting motorists who don't see them, who are unaware, like I was only moments prior, and then get hit. They get hit because the motorist in the car was not expecting that person to be so close, or to be weaving through the cars, and then decides to change lanes. I honestly never saw him before he came up. I'm sure that's what they all say.

I finally made it to the embassy. I went to get my mail. And it felt good to have braved the streets, well sort of. I feel like I am not cut out for this hard driving. Maybe not yet. I'd rather go back to Miami, and drive down I95. If you haven't ever done that, well it's really something. And they usually drive pretty fast there. Pedestrians beware.

I won't go into my drive home, it was a little bit more of the same. I will tell you also, that I didn't appreciate the guy trying to strong arm me into buying his bag of strawberries. I guess he didn't get the memo not to scare your customers. But then again, I must keep in mind that I am in South America. And the guy is trying to make a peso or two. I suppose I can't fault him there. This country is a bit harder than I'm used to. I miss Dillards. And Barnes n Noble. I need a mocha frapuccino something fierce.